


Decode

by scrapbullet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 1.02 Amuse-Bouche, Dr. Bloom has 'thoughts', Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She watches him sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decode

She watches him sleep. 

It's not a restful sleep, by any means. Will Graham slumbers fitfully as his dreams consume him from the inside out, gorged on the thoughts and actions of those he has chosen to let into himself; those criminals and dark things that Jack Crawford demands he become one with, and it shows so vividly on his face that Alana Bloom can't help but want to reach out and- 

What? Touch him? Soothe him?

It wouldn't be professional; so she doesn't. 

This isn't the first time that she has caught him standing vigil over Abigail Hobbs. It certainly won't be the last. To be truthful this obsession of his is worrying, but it's not her place to intercede; Will is Dr Lecter's patient now, and so she must remain distant, detached - 

(But she hasn't, has she? She cares too much, too deeply, and one day Jack Crawford will push too hard and he'll shatter into a thousand pieces-)

Will stirs, an expression of discomfort sweeping over his features before he falls still. The blanket she had placed over him has become rumpled due to uneasy fidgeting, pulled down low from where she'd tucked it over his shoulders, cotton clenched between fists. Will exhales. It's more like a sigh than a simple breath.

What does he dream of, Alana wonders? What does he _see?_

They had many sessions together, she and Will; but for every step they managed to lumber forward there was always something that pulled him back. Something, something he couldn't quite grasp... something intangible, unexplainable, and in those instances she had watched him become agitated, frustrated with his own brilliant mind. Oh, there had been some measure of progress, of course, or else Will would have stopped coming to their weekly appointments entirely and yet... it wasn't enough.

She couldn't, _can't_ , help him. Not in the way that truly matters. 

Footsteps; soft-voiced nurses starting a fresh shift, bustling to and fro, from room to room, patient to patient. They, Alana and Abigail and Will, remain undisturbed. 

She opens her book, and begins to read. Pushing Will Graham from her mind is a difficult business, but one she must endeavour to complete. What they were is no longer. What they will be is inconsequential. 

Where she failed, Dr. Lecter will succeed. 

Alana has every faith in that.


End file.
